


When You Look Into My Eyes, You Are a Wonderful Surprise

by jacksonstilinskis



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But mostly fluff, Character Development, Developing Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Jackson Comes Back, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, also, like hella character development, lots and lots of fluff, surprise surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 19:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1829536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonstilinskis/pseuds/jacksonstilinskis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles doesn't think Jackson will ever stop surprising him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Look Into My Eyes, You Are a Wonderful Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Just because I've read so many fics where Jackson wants to keep their relationship a secret, and I don't think he would be like that at all. I prefer to stick to my rainbow and butterfly headcanons of him being ridiculously excited and showing him off and screaming to the heavens that he landed Stiles Stilinski before anyone else figured out how incredible he is. But that's just me. Some say "out of character," I say "optimistic speculation of character development." Lol. Anyway, that evolved into this. Hope y'all enjoy!

Stiles thought he and Jackson would always hate each other.

Seriously, if you had asked little six-year-old Stiles if he thought he and Jackson Whittemore would ever be friends, he would have scoffed and said absolutely not. Hell, if you asked six _teen_ -year-old Stiles, the answer still would have been the same.

When Jackson left for London, Stiles figured that was it. They had parted on (semi) civilized terms, which was a significant improvement, and then Stiles never had to see him again. No biggie. 

But then Jackson had texted him, completely out of the blue.

_Hey. Can you come pick me up from the airport at 6:00 tonight?_ , the text reads. 

Stiles' first assumption, given their aforementioned semi _(barely)_ civilized parting, is that Jackson is in some sort of life-threatening danger.

He texts back a quick _Is everything okay?_ and anxiously waits for a reply, because despite their not being particularly friendly, he doesn't want the guy to die. He can't take another death, if he's being honest.

_I'm fine. I'll explain when I see you. If you can make it?_

Stiles lets out a sigh of relief, then replies quickly.

_Of course. See you then._

It's not until after he sends the message that he stops to wonder why the hell Jackson asked _him_ , of all people.

He slips on a hoodie and some shoes and leaves for the airport, even though it's barely after 1:00, because he can't focus on anything else. 

 

Once he gets there, it's only 2:15, so he grabs some McDonald's and completely drains his phone battery doing stuff like playing Flappy Bird and reading his iBook copy of The Fault in Our Stars. (Allison had recommended it to him a long time ago, before it was even popular - she was always fabulously ahead of the game like that - and he probably never would have actually read it, but then she, well.)

His phone finally dies around 5:45, and he has a charger in his car, but he doesn't want to risk not being here when Jackson walks in. It doesn't take a genius to know the dude's got trust issues, and he doesn't want to do anything to screw with that. 

So he just sits there, whistling and tapping and just generally disturbing the peace, until he hears Jackson call his name.

"Stiles," he says, and as soon as Stiles stands up Jackson's hugging him. "How are you?"

Stiles is fucking lost, because he can't remember there ever being a time Jackson acknowledged him in any other way than an eye roll and an annoyed "Stilinski."

He hugs him back, though, and says "I'm, uh, I'm good. How are you?"

"So much better, now," Jackson says, smiling. "Just being back here feels so good."

"I'm glad," Stiles says, and he's surprised by how much he means it. "Well, are you hungry? Do you wanna get something to eat? Or do you just wanna get home, or?"

Jackson winces. "About that."

"What?" Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I kinda don't have a home to go back to."

"What are you talking about? What about your parents?" Stiles asks, once again lost.

"I'd rather not talk about this in an airport full of people," Jackson says, and he grabs Stiles' wrist gently, leading him outside.

Stiles guides them back to his Jeep, and once they're both settled in the car, asks "Okay, what the hell?"

Jackson clears his throat, and Stiles can tell this isn't easy for him to talk about.

"Well, London was...it sucked. I thought it would be good to get away from everything, but all it did was make me feel really alone. I had some friends for awhile, but then I accidentally wolfed out in front of them, and they ran away as fast as they could and never looked back. There were a lot of werewolf incidents, actually, because I had no idea how to control it and no one was there to help me. Anyway, one of them landed me in the headmaster's office, and I was so pissed and so _hurt_ and I couldn't help it, I hit him. Sucker punched him, hard. And then I got expelled."

Usually Stiles has so much to say, but right now, the only thing he can think of is "Shit."

Jackson smiles sadly. "So I went home and told my parents, and they tried to console me - they said shit like 'we'll find you a new school, don't worry about it, sweetheart, it'll be fine' - and I was like, 'No, you guys don't understand. I hate it here. I want to go home,' right? And they freaked the fuck out, talking about how Beacon Hills is some devil town and our whole life is here now and it's for the best. And I said, 'Well, I'm fucking miserable here, and I need to go back.' And so, they tell me - this is a direct quote - they said, 'If you want to leave, if you really don't see that we're trying to do what's best for you, then fine, but we're not going to come back with you and watch you ruin your life.' So I left. I couldn't see straight, I couldn't stay in that house for another second. I didn't even pack a bag."

Stiles sighs, runs a hand through his hair. "Jesus. That's...shit. I'm sorry, Jackson."

"As if they didn't know I have abandonment issues so bad it makes me sick, you know?" His voice cracks, and Stiles feels pretty sick himself. He's never seen Jackson like this.

"Anyway," Jackson says, clearing his throat before continuing, "I know I have no right to be bothering you, but I just...I would ask Danny, but his parents always thought we had a thing together, no matter how many times we told them it's not true, so I don't think they'd go for it. And I couldn't really think of anyone else, except for you. Look, they didn't cut off my money or anything, so I can find my own place, it's just for awhile. Just...you're such a good person. You'd do anything to help anyone, even your enemy."

Stiles is taken aback by that. Not just because it's Jackson and he's being nice, but because after everything that happened with the nogitsune, that's something he really needed to hear. And sure, Scott and Derek and the rest of his friends tell him all the time that it wasn't his fault and that he's still a good person, but it's different to hear it from someone who isn't just trying to reassure him. 

"We're not enemies, Jackson," Stiles says quietly, and the truth of it surprises him again. "You can stay with me as long as you want. Don't even worry about it."

Jackson breathes a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Stiles. I really appreciate it."

Stiles waves a hand. "Don't mention it. Now, what do you say we go to the mall before we head home, seeing as you weren't smart enough to bring anything with you but the clothes on your back, hm?"

For a second he panics, thinks maybe that was a little too harsh considering Jackson's current state, but then he cracks a smile and says "Sounds good."

 

They spend more money than Stiles has probably ever seen in his entire life ( because "Why not? Screw your parents"), and Stiles gives him the run down of everything he's missed since he skipped town. (He presents the facts statistically - "Fatalities: Erica, Boyd, Heather, Allison, Aiden; Supernatural creatures: darach, alpha pack, nogitsune, oni" - because that's the only way he can get through it. When he gets to the part about him being possessed by aforementioned nogitsune, Jackson pats him on the back and gives him a sympathetic smile.) 

They stop for milkshakes and curly fries when they're done shopping, and Stiles honestly can't believe how much fun he's having. Even though London had been a miserable experience, something about it had changed Jackson, and Stiles is glad it did. 

When they finally get back to Stiles' house, his dad is sitting at the dining room table, looking through case files. 

"Hey, Dad," he calls as they make their way over to him. "You remember Jackson."

"Of course. Hello, Jackson," he says.

"Hi, Sheriff Stilinski."

"Well, Jackson's parents decided to leave his son to the wolves, heh - no pun intended - so I told him he could stay here until he finds somewhere more permanent. So he'll be in my room, and I'll be on the couch, and he'll be a part of the family until further notice. Cool?"

He shrugs. "Sounds fine to me."

"Thank you so much, Sheriff," Jackson says. 

"John," he says, holding out his hand.

Jackson shakes it, and Stiles loves his dad so much for not even questioning him.

"You didn't have to do that. I could have taken the couch," Jackson says as they're walking away.

"Nonsense. You're the guest."

"I thought you said I was part of the family."

Stiles grins at him. "You are."

 

The BHHS office tells Jackson he can't re-enroll without his parents present, but John vouches for him, and they let it slide. 

They don't see much of each other during school most days - and Stiles doesn't mind, because he knows he's just trying to catch up with all his friends - but every day after school, Stiles joins him in apartment hunting. 

It's about six weeks after Jackson moved back that they find one he really loves.

And Stiles is glad for him, really, but he doesn't know if he's ready for Jackson to move out. It's been really cool always having him around, and he really has fit into the family pretty well. His dad will tell Jackson to do the dishes or mow the lawn, and Jackson will roll his eyes and complain, but then John will pull out the "As long as you're under my roof you'll follow my rules" line and Jackson just smiles and does what he's told. 

The three of them hang out together a lot, but Stiles' favorite is when it's just the two of them, in his room watching a movie or yelling profanities at each other while they play video games or even just sitting in silence as they do their homework. It's just nice to have someone always be there, and Stiles doesn't want to lose that. 

But he doesn't say any of that. Instead, what he says is "I think we found the one" while the three of them are sitting down to dinner that night.

"Did you?" John asks.

"Yeah," Jackson says around a mouthful of spaghetti. "It's on the ground floor, and it has this _amazing_ bathroom, and it costs way more than it should, which'll piss off my parents, and best of all, it's within walking distance of the two of you."

Stiles smiles at that. 

"Well, it sounds great," John says. "But I have to say, I'm gonna miss having you around here, son."

Jackson's face lights up when he calls him son, and Stiles' heart soars.

 

He signs the lease a week later, and Stiles feels a piece of his heart go with it. 

But he doesn't say anything. What he does do is show up at Jackson's new place that weekend with a bottle of whiskey he spiked with wolfsbane and yell "Happy housewarming!" as soon as Jackson opens the door.

"Dude, it's 11:00 AM."

"Are you declining my booze?" Stiles asks, looking at him expectantly.

Jackson laughs. "You're insane," he says as he steps back to let Stiles in.

It's not until he's drunk and sitting next to Jackson on the floor because he still doesn't have any furniture that he comes to the realization that he's so hung up about this because he maybe possibly might be in love with Jackson.

"I wish you weren't leaving," he says, because not saying anything isn't as easy to do when you're wasted.

"I'm afraid of being alone again," Jackson slurs in response. 

"You won't be alone," Stiles says, putting a hand on Jackson's thigh. "I won't ever leave you alone again."

"Good." Jackson stares into his eyes for a long time, then starts laughing. "No more sad. We're supposed to be celebrating."

He puts a hand on top of Stiles', and then he leans in and he's kissing him.

Stiles realizes that this is just a drunken, one time thing for Jackson, but the alcohol's clouding the obvious outcome of having his heart broken and convincing him that one time is better than none, so he goes for it. He pulls Jackson down on top of him, and he loses his virginity on the living room floor. It's only fitting, he figures, because it's just one more thing this apartment took from him.

 

When he wakes up, he feels like he's going to be sick, and it's only partially because of the hangover. A quick glance at his phone tells him it's just after 6:00 PM, so at least he didn't sleep through curfew. He looks over at Jackson, sleeping so peacefully, and he can't breathe, because Jackson's his best friend after Scott, and now it's ruined. He can't handle having a conversation about it right now, so he slips on his shoes and runs out of there as quickly and quietly as he can, not even stopping to grab his hoodie from its spot on the kitchen counter.

It's less than a five minute drive from the apartment to his house, but he has to pull over two different times to throw up. 

When he finally makes it home, he finds a note on the fridge from his dad saying he had to go into the station and he won't be back until late. That's good, Stiles guesses, because he doesn't think he could handle acting like everything's fine right now. The emptiness of the house is swallowing him, though, because he hasn't been alone in so long, so he calls Scott with shaking hands.

_"Hello?"_

He tries to hide the desperation in his voice, but he can't. "Scott, I really screwed up. I slept with Jackson."

_"Shit. Okay, I'll be there in ten."_

"Thanks," Stiles says, then hangs up.

Once he gets there, they don't talk much about it. Scott gets that he just needed to have someone by his side, and Stiles loves him for that. 

They decide to have an Orange Is the New Black marathon, and Scott even lets Stiles lay with his feet in his lap without his usual complaints that it makes his legs fall asleep.

Scott doesn't bring Jackson up at all until a few hours later. 

"Hey, Stiles?" he asks as the episode they were watching ends and the credits roll.

"Hmm?"

"Did you just leave him there?"

Stiles winces. "I was doing us both a favor."

"And you're 100% sure that he doesn't feel anything for you at all?" Scott asks.

"I don't think so, dude," he says, and sighs. 

"Look, I'm on your side no matter what, forever, you know that, but...you know better than I do about his fear of abandonment. And you just left...I mean, are you sure you're not confusing the new Jackson with the old Jackson? Like, pre-London Jackson sleeping with you just for the hell of it and then never acknowledging it, sure. But post-London? It just doesn't seem like something he would do."

"He was drunk, though, Scott," he says, willing away tears. "He never tried anything until he was drunk."

Scott sighs. "I'm sorry, dude."

"Fuck," Stiles says, covering his face with his hands.

Scott puts a comforting hand on his ankle and reaches for the remote to play the next episode.

 

At close to one in the morning, the doorbell rings, and Stiles is too busy wallowing in self-pity to go tell off whoever's bothering him at this godforsaken hour.

"Can you?" he asks Scott. "I just, I can't."

"Of course, buddy," he says, jumping off the couch and jogging over to the door.

When he comes back a couple minutes later, he's _beaming._

"It's for you," he says, which, no shit.

"Is it Jackson?" Stiles asks, afraid of the answer.

Scott nods.

"Is he gonna yell at me? Because I can't deal with that."

Scott shakes his head, still grinning like a crazy person.

Stiles reluctantly stands up, kind of wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.

But then he gets to the door and Jackson is standing there with Stiles' hoodie slung over his arm and flowers in his hand.

Stiles feels like a fucking _moron_.

"Shit, Jackson, I'm so sorry, I left you and I said I would never leave you but I did - I just, I thought you didn't want this - I thought you didn't want there to be an us, fuck, I'm so so so sorry," he rambles, and none of the words that come out sound good enough.

"No, hey, listen, I get it. I don't have the best track record, for one, and to make it worse, I didn't make a move until I was fucking wasted. I've wanted to for a month now, for the record, and I hate that it happened this way. Which is why I'm here to ask you if you'd like to go furniture shopping with me tomorrow, and once I have a proper bed, we can do it over the right way, and I can treat you like the prince that you are."

Stiles snorts. "You are such an idiot. That sounds perfect, though. C'mere."

Jackson steps into his space, and Stiles wraps his hands around Jackson's waist, but he puts a hand on Stiles' chest to stop him for a minute.

"Hey, seriously, I'm really sorry I ruined your first time. That was really shitty of me."

Stiles shakes his head, smiling. "I'm just glad it was with you," he says, leaning in to kiss him.

This time, it's perfect.

 

The next day, after a very 500 Days of Summer-esque day at IKEA and another sizable addition to the Whittemores' credit card bill, Jackson's apartment is looking much more livable and for the first time since they visited it, Stiles is able to picture feeling comfortable and at home here. (Which doesn't matter, really, because it's for Jackson, not him, but when he says all of that out loud Jackson calls him a dumbass and tells him it's for the both of them.)

The first time they had sex wasn't bad, not by a long shot (not that Stiles has anything to go on), but it was nothing compared to their do over. Jackson wasn't kidding about treating him like a prince; he was so gentle and sweet with him and he whispered things like "you're so perfect" and "I can't believe you're mine" and "I'm so lucky" the whole time and focused solely and completely on Stiles before even thinking about himself. 

Later, when they're lying with their legs tangled together and Jackson's head on Stiles' chest, it's Jackson that breaks the silence for once.

"I wish that could have been your first," he mumbles into Stiles' neck.

"Hm," Stiles hums. "Well, it was the same person, and the two events were only 24 hours apart, and since you're so pretty and you asked so nicely, I think we can swap them."

He feels Jackson smile against his collarbone, but he says "I'm serious, Stiles."

"Jackson, hey, look at me," Stiles says, using a finger to tilt Jackson's head up. "I don't care, baby. I lost my virginity to someone I care about, and someone who cares about me, and that's what matters, okay?"

Jackson doesn't say anything; instead, Stiles is graced with an ear-splitting grin.

"What?" he asks.

"You called me baby," Jackson says, smirking.

Stiles snorts. "Jesus," he says, shoving Jackson off of him. "Get over yourself."

Jackson laughs and tickles Stiles until he's yelling for mercy.

 

When Jackson takes Stiles home that night, Stiles invites him in for dinner so that they can tell his dad they're together now.

"Guess who I brought with me," Stiles singsongs as he and Jackson walk into the kitchen.

John turns from his position at the stove and his face lights up as soon as he sees Jackson. Stiles smiles.

"Jackson!" he says, pulling Jackson into a hug like it's been a year instead of a week. "How are you liking the new place?"

"It's great," Jackson says, beaming at John. "I do miss it here, though."

"Well, you know you're welcome here any time. I was just finishing up dinner, come on, sit down."

He dishes up some macaroni and cheese for all three of them, and they sit, and god, Stiles has missed this. 

"So, uh, dad," he says a few minutes later, going for casual but missing by a mile, "We have something to tell you, actually."

"What is it?" he asks, raising a brow.

"Well, we're, uh...Jackson and I are dating, now."

John looks up from his plate, looking back and forth between the two of them. 

"You two didn't do anything under my roof without telling me about it, did you?" he asks.

"No, no, no. This just happened today," Stiles says, purposely leaving the entirety of yesterday out of the equation. He winks at Jackson, and Jackson smiles.

"Well, alright," John says. He addresses Jackson, then. "I trust you completely, and I know you wouldn't hurt Stiles, but I have to do my fatherly duty and threaten you, so here goes. You will not pull that shit you did to Lydia on my son. You will not leave without saying goodbye - preferably, you won't leave at all - and if you two ever break up, it better not be for any reason other than you grew apart. Got it?"

Jackson nods. "Yes, sir. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"I know you're not," John says with a smile, clapping Jackson on the back. "I'm glad it's you."

"That means the world to me," Jackson says. "I'm glad it's me, too."

 

Stiles figures that Jackson will want to keep their relationship a secret, at least for awhile, and he's completely fine with that. Coming out is a big deal, especially to a high school full of judgmental assholes, and Stiles feels like Jackson's the kind of guy that just needs some time, and that's not a problem with him.

The only problem is...well, that's the thing. He's not even entirely sure what the problem is.

So he does what he always does when he wants to talk to someone without actually talking to anyone: he emails Allison.

_From: sstilinski24@gmail.com  
To: allyargent@gmail.com_

_Hey, Allison._

_I hope everything's good wherever you are and whatever you're doing. It's been pretty quiet in Beacon Hills, actually. We're pretty close to a supernatural-less record, I think. Let's see...since I talked to you last, I finally watched the How I Met Your Mother finale - which was complete trash, by the way, biggest cop out piece of shit since the Lost finale - and, oh, Scott's been doing much better. Sometimes I can kind of see that Scott sparkle (you know what I'm talking about) leave his eyes, and I know he's thinking about you, but I'm pretty sure that's only visible to people fluent in Scottish. He doesn't cry much anymore, so that's good._

_Anyway, the biggest thing that's happened since my last email, and the reason I'm writing, is that Jackson's back. He was so unhappy in London, Allison, and his parents didn't even care. Jesus, they practically disowned him. They're still letting him use their money, though, thank god, or he'd probably be a mess. Remember when he was super sweet to you to get to Scott back in sophomore year? That's how he is all the time now, to pretty much everyone, and there's no ulterior motive. He's changed so much, you wouldn't believe it. I wish you could see it._

_The reason I'm pitching what Scott calls "post-London Jackson" to you is because, well, I slept with him. It wasn't just sex, I mean, we're a thing now, but it just happened today and I have no idea what's gonna happen at school tomorrow. I'm fine with him wanting to keep it quiet, if that's what he needs, that's not the problem, it's just...I don't even know how to explain it, Allison. I just feel like I'm not good enough, you know? You probably don't, because with Scott and with Isaac you were the one that was too good for them. You're too good for everyone. But, like, he's Jackson freaking Whittemore, and now he's got an attractive personality to go with his attractive everything else and that's the one piece he was missing, now he's perfect. And I guess I just don't understand why he's bothering with me when he could have anyone. Christ, I feel so pathetic talking about this. I wonder if I'd be man enough to talk to you about it if you were still here. Probably not._

_Thanks for always being here to listen, though. If you ever need to talk to me, you know I'm here for you any time. I can buy a Ouija board, or you can write me a message in the fogged up mirror while I'm in the shower, or just, you know, whatever works. I miss talking to you. I miss you more every day._

_Love, Stiles_

He shuts his laptop, and his heart aches with how much he misses Allison, but he does feel better about the Jackson thing.

He takes a quick shower (and he'd be lying if he said he didn't check the mirror for messages when he gets out) and calls it a night.

 

He has a terrible case of butterflies on his way to school in the morning, which hasn't happened since his first day of freshman year, so he takes a quick detour to Starbucks to get a muffin and some tea to calm his nerves. At the register, he briefly considers getting Jackson something too, but he decides against it, picturing himself holding the coffee out to Jackson as he walks by him without a word. 

He shudders, scarfs down the muffin, and takes the tea with him to his car. 

He kind of feels like he might puke as he pulls into the school parking lot, but as soon as he walks through the door he's proven completely and absolutely wrong yet again. He can see Jackson at the end of the hall, waiting for him at his locker. 

He grins, downs the rest of his tea, and chucks the cup into the nearest trashcan before making his way down the hallway. 

"Stiles!" Jackson yells as soon as he sees him, and he sounds so excited Stiles could just about die. 

When Stiles finally reaches him, Jackson says a quick "Hi" and then immediately leans in to give him a peck on the lips.

"Hi yourself," Stiles says, beaming. 

"How are you?" Jackson asks, and Stiles seriously can't take how sweet he is.

"Spectacular, now," he answers, opening his locker and putting his backpack away. "How are you, baby?" Stiles asks, just because he knows Jackson loves it.

"So damn good," Jackson says. "Shall we?" he asks, holding out his hand.

Stiles shuts his locker and threads their fingers together. "We shall," he says, and he doesn't know why he ever had a doubt in his mind.

They walk all the way to class hand in hand, and pretty much all eyes are on them, but Stiles is fucking delirious about it. 

Once they're forced to part ways and Stiles is sitting in history class bored out of his mind, he sends another email to Allison.

_From: sstilinski24@gmail.com  
To: allyargent@gmail.com_

_Jackson was the perfect gentleman. I don't know what I was worried about. If you pulled any strings with your angel status up there to make it happen, thanks. Love you._

 

At lunch, Jackson sits with him and Scott and Lydia. He sits next to Stiles, so close that they're touching from shoulder to knee.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks Jackson while Lydia's asking Scott to find her a prom date.

"Is it dirty?" Jackson whispers, and Stiles chuckles.

"No, dumbass. I, uh...I was really afraid that you wouldn't want people at school to know about us. Which isn't a problem in itself, but I was just...I was paranoid that you'd be ashamed of me or something. And I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad, I just think honesty's important and I think you should know how insecure I can be sometimes. And I want you to know how much it meant to me to see you so excited to see me this morning."

Jackson's face goes soft.

"I'd never be ashamed of you. It's the opposite, actually. It's like, I wanna tell the entire world about us," he says. "In fact..."

Jackson stands suddenly, stepping up to stand on top of his chair, and he whistles loudly, and then the entire cafeteria is looking at him.

"I have an announcement to make. I just want you all to know that I'm sleeping with Stiles Stilinski and I'm freaking ecstatic about it. That's all. Carry on," Jackson says, and then he plops back down into his seat as quickly as he got up and leans over to kiss Stiles on the cheek, casual as anything.

Everyone claps and whistles and "awwww"s for them, and Stiles can't help the blush that spreads across his face.

"How come you never did that for me?" Lydia asks Jackson. 

They can all tell she's teasing, but Jackson answers truthfully anyway.

"I should have," he says quietly. "You deserved it. You deserve everything."

Lydia's taken aback at first, but then she snaps out of it and smiles at him. "Thanks, Jackson."

Stiles grabs his hand and gives it a comforting squeeze underneath the table, and he's so proud of him he can't even stand it.

 

The next morning, he walks into school with one cup of coffee in each hand. One has his name on it, and the other just has a heart drawn where the name should go.

He offers that one to Jackson, but he says he'd rather have the one with Stiles' name. So he gives him that one, and he thinks he likes it better this way, anyhow.

 

Scott actually ends up asking Lydia to prom, because he "couldn't find anyone better on such short notice," to which Lydia replies "No one's better than you, so how could you have?"

The whole thing was kind of ridiculously adorable.

So the four of them all make plans to go together, and Lydia says she'll ask Allison's dad for the dress Allison had bought as a "maybe" for prom so they can take pictures with it, and they decide that each of them will wear an extra corsage as a tribute to everyone else: one for Erica, one for Boyd, one for Heather, and one for Aiden.

When the night finally comes, they all meet at Stiles' house, Lydia's parents and Scott's mom included, and one minute they're all taking pictures and everything's fine and then the next, Jackson just starts _sobbing._

Stiles completely panics, heart racing, because he's never seen Jackson cry and he has no idea how to handle it. He settles for grabbing him by the arm and guiding him out of the living room, telling everyone else they'll be right back.

He ushers him into his bedroom and tries to get him to the bed, but Jackson just kind of collapses onto the floor, still crying. Stiles is down there next to him immediately, holding both his hands.

"Jackson, honey, talk to me. What is it?"

Jackson takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself enough to talk.

"All your parents are here, and they're so proud and happy and excited, and mine can't even be bothered to show up. They don't even give enough of a shit to look after the child they fucking adopted and promised to care for! Fuck, Stiles, I miss my real parents. I miss them so much and I never even knew them."

He leans forward and continues crying into Stiles' shirt, and Stiles feels his heart crack in fucking two.

He puts one hand on Jackson's back and cards the other one through his hair, trying to quiet him, but to no avail.

He doesn't know a whole lot about Jackson's real parents, but he knows they died the night Jackson was born, so he rolls with that and prays he doesn't say the wrong thing.

"They miss you, too, Jackson, I know they do. This is never what they wanted for you. They wanted you to have everything, and they wanted to be the ones to give it to you. But you know what? They are so freaking proud of you, baby. They're so proud of you for being an adult way before you were supposed to have to and for learning from your mistakes and becoming such a good person and for landing such a hot piece of ass."

He hears a muffled laugh vibrate against his chest, and he smiles. 

"There you go," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of Jackson's head. "Screw the Whittemores. If you want, we can play hooky first thing Monday morning and go down and get your name changed. Whatever it takes to make you happy. I am so sick of them making you feel this way. You did nothing wrong, Jackson, you're perfect. This is on them."

He's starting to ramble, but he doesn't want to stop talking because Jackson's finally calming down.

"You're absolutely right, when they adopted you they made a promise to love you and care for you no matter what, and they did a shit job of that. But it doesn't matter, you know? Because me, and my dad, and Scott, and Lydia, _we're_ your family. Okay? And we're here for the long haul."

Finally, slowly, Jackson lifts his head up. He looks wrecked, but he takes a deep breath and looks Stiles in the eyes. 

"I need to tell you something, and I need you to really hear me, and really understand what a big deal it is. Because I haven't said it since I found out I was adopted. To anyone. But I need to say it to you."

He rests a hand on Stiles' cheek, smiles, and says "I love you."

And then he kisses him, short and sweet. 

Stiles is stunned to silence, because he would have been willing to bet his entire life savings and every penny he ever earned for the rest of his life that he would have been the one to say that first.

But he wasn't, and then Jackson looks worried, and quickly says "And look, you don't have to say it back right now, I just needed you to know--"

Stiles cuts him off, because now he can't stand _not_ to say it. 

"Jesus, no, Jackson...I love you, too. I love you so much."

Jackson gets this look of pure joy on his face that Stiles wishes was there all the time, and then they laugh and hold each other until they're both composed enough to go back and face everyone.

 

They make their way back to the living room, but right before they round the corner, Stiles puts a hand on Jackson's shoulder and stops him. 

"Hey, if you don't wanna go, we don't have to. I'm more than happy to just hang out here with you," Stiles tells him.

"No, come on. It's prom. We have to go."

"I assure you, my dear, I could not give less of a shit. I promise."

"Are you sure?" Jackson asks, still not convinced.

Stiles nods. "Never been more sure of anything."

Jackson kisses him on the forehead and takes his hand before they start walking again.

When they walk into the room, everyone's sitting around the coffee table looking worried. Stiles talks so Jackson doesn't have to.

"Hey, Scott, Lydia...we're sorry, but we're actually gonna skip out. You guys go, we're just gonna hang out here."

The two of them look at each other and seem to have one of those wordless conversations and then Scott says "We're not going anywhere without you two," and Lydia nods.

"No, really, you guys go, it's fine," Jackson says. "You've always wanted to be prom queen, Lydia."

Lydia shrugs. "I'll win whether I'm there or not," she says, smirking. "We won't have any fun without you two there, anyway. No arguing. We're staying."

Stiles grins, because he feels like this is helping prove to Jackson that he _does_ have a family that loves him and cares about him.

The parents all start saying their goodbyes and making their way out of the room, but Stiles' dad stops to talk to Jackson before he goes. 

Stiles is pretty sure he isn't supposed to hear them, but he strains his ears just so he can.

"If you ever need a parent to talk to, consider me yours," John says. "I'm here for you, kid."

Jackson nods, and then John pulls him into a hug so tight Stiles is surprised they can breathe.

Once the parents are gone, Lydia, Scott, and Jackson borrow pajamas from Stiles and they all get comfy and cuddle together on the couch while they watch all three High School Musicals.

 

Stiles enrolls in the police academy right after they graduate, and Jackson inherits a ridiculous amount of money from both sets of parents once he turns 18, so since he's pretty much set, he starts looking for jobs that don't require a college degree because he is so sick of school.

They move in together in the fall, right after Scott and Lydia leave for their fancy out-of-state colleges. 

Jackson mopes around for days after they're gone, whining and moaning about them leaving him like everyone does.

Stiles shuts that train down as fast as he can, tells him that this isn't the same thing and he knows it.

"It's you and me now, though. Okay?"

"Okay," Jackson says, nodding.

Stiles chuckles, because it makes him think of The Fault in Our Stars. 

"You know, I fell in love with you the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once," he tells Jackson, because he knows he won't get it.

"I'm sure you did," Jackson replies, because he knows Stiles is making references he doesn't understand to try and be clever.

"Will you be the Hazel Grace to my Augustus Waters?" Stiles asks, having more fun than he probably should be.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be, you loser," Jackson says, laughing, and he pulls Stiles in for a kiss.

 

A year later finds Stiles pacing around the living room of that same god damned apartment (although, admittedly, he likes it a lot more now than he did on that first night), waiting for Jackson to get home. He's had the perfect proposal planned for a month, but he's been trying to wait for the right time to do it, and he's finally had enough. Tonight's the night, come hell or high water.

Jackson walks through the door then, calling out "I'm home."

Then, once he's in the door and stepping out of his shoes, he adds "Ugh, I've had the shittiest day."

Stiles' shoulders slump in defeat. Apparently tonight's not the night.

But he smiles, gives Jackson a quick kiss, and says "Come watch TV with me and we'll order a pizza."

"Sounds perfect," Jackson says with a smile.

 

"My dad came to see me today," Jackson says after three episodes of The Office and entirely too many slices of pizza.

Stiles sits up so fast he gets a little dizzy. "Shit. Really?"

"Yeah. He told me that coaching a few local lacrosse teams isn't a 'respectable way to live my life,' especially when I'm doing it as a volunteer. So I tried to be calm, you know, I told him that money won't ever be an issue with how much I inherited, and that besides that, coaching makes me happy, but he didn't give a shit. Not that that's surprising to anyone."

Stiles sighs. "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's fine," Jackson says, shrugging. "He just had some business meeting here, so he's probably on a flight back to London right now."

"I admire you for doing what you do for those kids, you know," Stiles says.

"And your approval is the only approval I need," Jackson says, smiling. "Hey, do you remember prom night, when you offered to take me down to the court and get my name legally changed?"

Stiles nods. "Yeah. Why, are you finally taking me up on it, two years later?"

"Don't be a smartass. Let me talk," Jackson says, and Stiles sticks his tongue out at him but obliges nonetheless.

"Anyway, when you suggested it, it sounded like the best idea I'd ever heard. I wanted to do it so badly. But, as you know, I never did. You know why?"

Stiles just raises his eyebrows, because he doesn't know if he's supposed to talk yet. 

"Because I knew it wouldn't be long before I'd want to change it to Stilinski, so I figured I'd hold off," Jackson says, and Stiles feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

Jackson pulls a ring out of his pocket, and he doesn't kneel because they're both already comfortable on the couch so why bother (Stiles gets it), he just opens the box and holds it out to Stiles.

"Will you do me the honor of marrying me and sharing your last name with me?" he asks, and Stiles almost cries.

"Fuck yes, I will, but I just need you to know that you're the absolute worst," he says.

"Why's that?" Jackson asks with a laugh.

Stiles takes out his own ring and chucks it at Jackson. "I've been trying to do it for weeks, you asshole."

Jackson snorts. "Well, A for effort, I guess?" he tries.

Stiles laughs. "You're always finding ways to surprise me."

"That's a good thing, I hope," Jackson says.

"There hasn't been a bad one yet," Stiles assures him. "Jackson Stilinski," he says, trying it out.

"I love it. And I love you," Jackson says, and Stiles smiles, because he loves that that's so easy for him to say now.

"I love you more. How about we call Lydia and Scott and tell them, and then go over to Dad's house and surprise him?"

"Sounds good," Jackson says. "And we can stop at the cemetery on the way home and tell your mom, yeah?"

Stiles was planning on doing that by himself at some point, but having Jackson offer strikes something in him, and then he can't help it, he's crying.

"You're everything I've ever wanted, Jackson," Stiles says, and his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest.

Jackson laughs, calls him a sap, and then surprises him with a blow job before they leave.

It's only fitting, Stiles figures.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this was seriously supposed to be a short like 1,000 word thing but somehow it turned into this and I'm actually really happy with it. Also, I tried to write the sex scenes, I really did, but I am just completely shit at writing sex, so I left them as basic as I possibly could. I sincerely apologize. Hope you enjoyed nonetheless :)


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